


I Can't Remember What Safe Feels Like

by 20Zvorak17



Category: Law & Order: SVU, Supernatural
Genre: Creepiness from OMC, Criminal trial, Dean is the parent in this household, Fem!Sam, Gen, John does care though, Rape of a Minor, Short skirt and a smile defense, implied rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-16 14:18:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11830479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/20Zvorak17/pseuds/20Zvorak17
Summary: It's school, goddammit, and she's supposed to be safe there.





	1. Chapter One

"I'd like to see you after school, Ms. Winchester." Mr. Davis says, his usual warm smile in place. Sam nods and grins, because Mr. Davis is her favorite teacher. She's fifteen, which means she feels like an adult but everyone still treats her like a kid--but not Mr. Davis, who treats her like an equal; listens when she talks about politics and philosophy and things that everyone else pats her on the head for.

There'd been a rougaru hunt over the weekend. Sam had managed to set it on fire but not before it got in a few good swipes on both men. She'd been forced to stitch the two up and help them around. She'd only spent, like, thirty minutes on the paper and it probably, she thought grimly, showed. He's going to be concerned, most likely, and she'll feel guilty as hell.

"Your paper wasn't up to par at all, Ms. Winchester, and you've been quiet the last couple weeks."  _No more than usual,_ Sam thinks. She assumes he just never noticed before. "Is everything okay at home?"

His voice is sincere and his words are right. He's every bit the concerned educator whose favorite student has just been odd lately. But there's something in his eyes, Sam thinks, and this situation feels...she's uncomfortable in a way she can't pinpoint.

"Yeah," she answers, thinking that her panic at the mere threat of CPS is clouding her judgement.

"You just don't seem like yourself." That concerned look is still there but she's almost positive, now, that the expression is fake. "I'm wondering if I should talk to my wife--she's the head of DCFS, you see."

It sounds frighteningly like a threat.

"I could be persuaded not to, mind you."

Yep, it's a threat.

"They're welcome to investigate. I understand that it's their job." Her voice is steady but her pulse is racing. She's struck with inspiration. "So, if that's all, my brother and my Dad are expecting me home. If I'm late, they'll come looking for me. Have a good day, Mr. Davis.

He stands in front of the door and locks it.

 

 

It's the janitor who finds her. She notices, initially, the blood on the Sam's legs and the fact that she's sobbing. She knows Sam's dad is an only parent so at first, she thinks Sam's gotten her period for the first time and it hasn't been explained to her. But next she notices the torn shirt and the bruises on her arms.

"Sam?" The janitor, Alice, questions softly. "Sam, are you alright? Did someone hurt you?"

She approaches the teen like one might a wounded animal. Hands open and non-threatening, moving slower than you do around a spooked horse, keeping a steady stream of, "Listen, honey. I'm going to call 911 and then is there someone specific you want me to call? Your Dad, maybe? I'm going to get you an ambulance, okay, it's going to be fine."

Sam doesn't answer the question and Alice figures that she can ask again after the 911 call is made. 

"What's your emergency?"

"I'm at the high school," she says, "and one of the students was sexually assaulted."

 

 

The only thing Sam will say is that she wants Dean, so that's who Alice calls. It takes him less than five minutes to get there and when the ambulance arrives five more minutes after that- _great response time, guys,_ Alice muses scathingly--he rides with. The EMTs are fairly impressed with him. His jacket is around Sam and he'd sent the janitor for anything with copious amounts of sugar. She's nearly out of shock by the time the ambulance arrives.

Sam is surprised when she realizes they've sent medics. She's not badly injured, physically, so there was no need for them to roll a bus. Procedure, maybe?

"Do you want us to transport her?"

"Does she need a hospital?" Dean says, brow furrowing in confusion.

"If..." one of the medics clears her throat, "if she wants to press charges, then yes, she'll have to go to the hospital."

Sam looks at Dean, but this isn't his decision. "It's up to you, Sammy."

"I want to press charges. He'll do it again and he has access, Dean. I can't let him..." She's braver than he could ever be, Dean realizes then.

"Okay," he says, soft as anything, "do you want to go in the ambulance or do you want me to drive you?"

She decides to go in the ambulance, because she'll eventually have to talk about it--and she will because he's a ephebophile, and he's a teacher, and he's got _connections_ , and that's like handing an addict an ounce of heroin for free--but once she does it'll be really real. She's going to put that off as long as she possibly can. If Dean drives her, one or the other of them will have to explain the situation--will have to say it out loud.

He helps her stand and his hand on the back of her neck, a familiar gesture, steadies her

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

By the time Carisi makes his way towards the room he hears two stern voices.

"A male authority figure just attacked her and you're asking her to let a male authority figure get that close to her? In case you missed it, she started sobbing and screamin' blood murder. Get her a female doctor. Goddammit, this is New York. Thought you actually cared here."

"Mr. Winchester, I'm trying to do my job. As a Doctor--"

"You're supposed to help people. Sending her into a panic attack ain't doin' that, is it? Get her. A female. Doctor."

The Doctor walks away and the man goes back inside the room, Carisi follow not a minute later.

"I'm Detective Carisi with the Special Victims Unit. Samantha, I'd like to ask you a couple of questions about what happened?"

In his peripheral vision he can see the blonde eyeing him mistrustfully. "You blame my sister for a goddamn thing, I'll toss you outta here bodily and screw your badge." He warns.

"It's not Samantha's fault at all," Carisi confirms, before turning to the girl, "and that's the truth, Sam. Can you tell me about what happened?"

She opens her mouth to answer when there's a knock at the door. "Ms. Winchester? I'm Dr. Brewer. I understand you wanted a female doctor to do your kit?"

"I'll be outside," Carisi says standing, "whenever you're ready just have your brother come fetch me, alright?"

"Dean?" Sam asks, voice tiny, "will you go with him?"

"Sure, Sammy."

"How are you holding up?" The detective asks as soon as the door shuts behind them.

"School's supposed to be safe, man. And it wasn't, and she needed me, and I couldn't protect her." And if he hasn't heard that from every set of parents since he started at SVU...

"For what it's worth, this is how parents generally feel. But they didn't do anything wrong and neither did you."

"It's just...it's school." The sandy blonde reiterates, running his hands through his hair. 

"Listen," he says accent coming through strongly, "You couldn't have known." He pauses, lets that sink in a bit. "I'm not sure if they told you, by the way, but if you aren't Sam's legal guardian than you have to call whoever is. She's not sixteen yet which means they can't process the kit or give her an emergency contraceptive without permission."

"I am," he says. "Our Dad is gone a lot."

"Think you should call him anyway?"

The younger man met the Detective's eyes. "He's going to blame her. For not trusting her instincts or for not fighting back. I've seen her take down guys twice her size and he's going to point at that and say, 'so what were you thinking?' He's not going to care that she had no idea what to do because it was a teacher and he's not going to take into account that she was scared and trapped. He's a marine, man, that affects how he thinks."

"Think about it. He's still you guys's Dad."

The doctor came out at that moment. "Sam's going to shower and then you can talk to her"

Dean nodded. "She keeps a go-bag in the car. I really doubt she'll want to put those clothes back on." He turns, starts walking away, stops back to Carisi still.

 "I think I'll burn 'em."


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam answers some questions, Dean signs the necessary forms and an arrest is made in front of the whole school.

Much to Dean's dissatisfaction he isn't going to be able to salt and burn the offending articles: They're evidence.

"So, like I said, Sam, I'm Detective Carisi and I just need to ask you a couple questions."

"Okay," Sam says, her knees tucked to her chest, now donning a pair of loose cotton pants and one of Dean's sweatshirts; his scent, to her, had always meant that she was protected. Her voice is tremulous, body tense but the older brother slides a hand around the back of her neck and some of the tension drains from her. The oft-used gesture is calming, lets her breathe. Carisi supposes it conveys something akin to Rollins laying a hand on his shoulder or Bella squeezing his hand. An 'I'm here, I've got you, you're okay'. These two, he's noticed, have non-verbal communication that is off the charts.

"He asked me to stay after class," she begins, in a voice a little too measured, a little too steady.

"Who did?" 

"Mr. Davis. I half-assed my book report and I assumed he wanted to talk about that."

"Did he?"

"He mentioned it," she confirms, "then he asked if things were okay at home." From what Carisi has seen, this living situation, while unusual, is by no means lacking; not when a simple touch from her guardian gives her a feeling of total safety. "He told me his wife was with DCFS, that he wondered if he should mention my situation. It felt like a threat but then I figured, I know this teacher, I've stayed after class to talk to him before. I figured I was just freaking out because Dean's raised me and we move a lot. He has a prior for shop lifting and he's only nineteen--that, all combined, looks bad. I thought...I thought I was panicking and even genuine concern would feel threatening but then..." she bit her lip harshly, cutting off what might've been a sob.

Dean ran his pointer finger down the back of her neck where his hand had been resting loosely. "It's alright, kiddo," he promises, voice tight, and he hates himself for saying it, hopes that she won't, because it's not alright at all. "Just take a big breath, Sammy." She follows the instruction, shakily albeit and if Dean is the one who has one single man tear running down his face, no one mentions it.

"But then he said he could be persuaded not to say anything. But I--I couldn't--it wasn't worth that, it just wasn't. A decent case-worker would see right through that and they try to place kids back with their guardians wherever possible. And I just--I thought 'I can stick out a couple of months.' Let them investigate. I said as much and I went to leave." She turned to her brother, wild-eyed, "I tried to get out, Dean. I swear, I tried to walk right out of the situation."

"I never doubted it, sweetheart."

"He blocked the door," she continues, staring at her fingers, "and he locked it. And I know how to defend myself," she squeezed her eyes shut and a tear slipped out, "but for ten years I'm taught 'Listen to the teacher'. This is an authority figure, and authority is big with my Dad. He says don't question authority and I was confused and I didn't know what to do and I just let..."

"You didn't let him do anything, Sam." The detective asserted, firm but not unkind. "It's not your fault in any way. I've known Army rangers that have been attacked in this way by men a lot smaller than 6'5. It wasn't their faults, either." He paused, "Did he say anything else?"

"He said that no one would believe me. He said the school would turn against me and then I'd regret it and no one would believe me anyway."

"We do." He told her and then, with conviction, "and we'll get him."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The set of Carisi's jaw when he walks into the bullpen tells Olivia that he'd like to be the one to cuff the guy so, indulging the rarity she's only seen one other time, she sends him and Rollins and then, because she'd heard it from Lucy whose younger sister attended the same school (not because she hated creeps like this and wanted a bit of vindication), "If you wait about twenty minutes you can arrest him in front of God and everybody."

The office cooperates surprisingly easily. "We're actually here to make an arrest," Rollins says which usually causes them hesitation.

"Alice told us one of the students had been hurt by that creepy teacher." The secretary said, disgust for the man laced through her voice, "They're in the gym. You go right in." She smiles, but it's deadly.

 

They walked right up the man holding the microphone, presumably the principal. "We're detectives with the Special Victims Unit. Is Austin Davis here?" At which point a tall man makes a break for it, leading both Detectives on a chase through the school. Amanda successfully slams him into a wall a second before Carisi would have. He thrashes, hard enough to send Rollings flying, heating Carisi's temper even more. Carisi grabs his taser. "Assaulting a police officer, resisting arrest. Keep going, man," he flicked the switch to make the taser buzz, "I  _want_ you to give me a reason." Out of options (and not doubting the silver-haired man or the tic in his jaw for a second), he allows Amanda to cuff him and if she makes them deliberately just a little too tight, Carisi turns a blind eye and forces back a pleased grin.

"You want to read him his rights, Carisi."

"My pleasure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we're moving into the trial.  
> Anyone who has been through one  
> Anyone who is a lawyer/judge  
> If I get something wrong, please correct it so that I can fix it so that my story is accurate.
> 
> Also I couldn't pass up the opportunity to use 'one single man tear'


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has a few new habits and Barba requests remand.

Dean insists on Sam staying home for a while. For the first week, she doesn't even argue. But eventually, she informs her brother, she'll have to go back. She convinces him to let her try the next Thursday. The first two classes go fine. Everyone respects her space. It's easier than some things these days.

Lunch is harder; she has to walk past that classroom to reach the cafeteria. She walks on the other side of a large group so there's plenty between her and it. It makes her nervous. They have a sub teaching English for now, but it's still in the same place and she's not sure how she'll fare. She thinks about calling Dean, but that's admitting defeat without even trying. She hasn't got it in her to do such a thing.

She should have. She's a danger to herself and others as soon as she tries to go in. She can barely breathe but a senior tried to help her and she'd taken a swing at him which he had barely been able to dodge. He sits down anyway, out of swiping range, tries to talk her through it. It doesn't bring her out of it, but it helps and Dean offers a sincere thank you to the kid who missed class to stay with Sam after she tried to deck him in a panic. When the scent of gun-oil and leather hits her, she instantly calms.

Dean decides to transfer Sam to another school. She can't spend every day terrified.

 

 

"The people request remand, Your Honor," Barba declares. "The defendant is well-connected and his wife comes from money--he has the means to flee. Further, given the nature of the crime, it is a matter of victim's rights."

They don't get remand, but bail is at 20,000 dollars and the way Buchanan's face tightens is at least a little satisfying. Olivia plans to go tell Sam, feeling that she deserves to know, but when she arrives she is told by the older brother to wait.

"Sam's in the shower," Dean says, "again." He runs a hand through his hair. "She takes like, ten a day, and occasionally I actually have to go get her and," he wiped at his face as he sometimes does when he's at a loss, "God, that first day I reached in to turn the water off and it was scalding. Her skin was red and raw and  _bleeding_ because she was scrubbing with steel wool. She said that her skin was crawling and she had to get the taint off her." He looked at the lieutenant sharply. "You have to nail this guy. I told her it would be okay, Lieutenant Benson, I  _promised_ it would. I don't break promises to my kid, so you've got to pin him down."

"She'll have to testify." Olivia warns.

"She's determined to do whatever she has to. That's what she does." His smile is proud but tinged with grief.

"The defense is going to do their best to tear her apart. Try to make it look like she wanted it." 

His eyes tightened and he protested, "She's fifteen!  Whether she wanted it or not is legally ir-friggin'-relevant. _Morally_ irrelevant."

  _Let's hope a jury sees it that way,_ She thinks. "That's what we're going to prove," is what she says, cursing defense lawyers, not for the first time. More to the point, it's Buchanan, just about the only lawyer who's been known to give Barba a real run for his money. She won't tell them that, the nineteen year old who looks more tired than a teen ever should and the girl who is terrified.

She won't lie, either.


End file.
